


Inked

by AlicantoFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Gay, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, M/M, Ravenclaw, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:45:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicantoFury/pseuds/AlicantoFury
Summary: Draco Malfoy always had drawings on his hands.So did Harry Potter.But Harry didn't ever draw on his body.





	Inked

Ever since he was little, Draco Malfoy always had drawings on his hands. 

 

He drew on anything and of everything, whether it was just a flower from the garden or just swirls spiralling into infinity. His father never approved, for he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys had to be neat and proper and never show signs of weakness. And to Lucius Malfoy, little doodles on hands were weak. They were not for the mighty and fearful. 

 

But Draco’s mother, on the other hand, always wanted to be an artist. She drew on her arms as much as her son did, if not, even more. Birds and clouds, and even the occasional note so she won’t forget. Unlike her husband, Narcissa Malfoy provided Draco with the quills and ink, the markers and crayons, the pastels and paints. She taught her son on how to hide his drawings so his father wouldn’t see them and so Draco won’t face the consequences. 

 

As Draco was growing up, he drew more and more and his drawings got better and better. He went from scribbles to actual drawings. His drawings had passion, they conveyed what he was feeling. Sometimes, when he was  _ really  _ bored, there was colour to some of these doodles. 

 

Somehow, his father always found out. It was a common sight to find Draco being dragged off (unwillingly) by his father to the bathroom, where Lucius will forcefully wash these markings off his son’s skin.

 

This way, Draco learned not to draw as much over the summer. His father didn’t have to know he still had this habit. His father can’t punish him for what he doesn’t know about. 

 

But now September is rolling around, and he gets to go back to school. His true home. Draco was tired of this stuffy manor, with stuffy servants and stuffy people. Draco will finally be able to hop on a train and let all his worried dissolve. He will finally be able to draw again. And  _ anywhere _ , too. On paper, in the margins of books, and on his arms. And everything will be okay.

 

He’ll be back at Hogwarts, and Draco Malfoy will be okay.

 

~~~~~~

 

Ever since he was little, Harry Potter always had drawings on his hands. However, they weren’t his. 

 

He always loved these drawings. They differed between the most extravagant works of art up and down his arm, or little notes printed in neat letters on his wrist. Harry could never get tired by looking at the artwork blooming into what it was to become. He always thought that whoever was drawing on him was an amazing artist. He would never trade these doodles for the world. His aunt and uncle never approved, of course, for it was a type of magic, and to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, magic did not exist, and it was a whole load of rubbish. 

 

Harry’s cousin, on the other hand, was always fascinated by it. When Dudley didn’t have a kid to bully and was bored, he would always sit with Harry and watch these images come to life on his arm. Dudley always wanted Harry to write back, but Harry never did. He didn’t want to scare off the person on the other end of the drawings. 

 

As Harry was growing up, these drawings started getting better and better, and Harry loved to sit and watch them form. It never got old, no matter how many drawings appeared. These drawings kept him company during the long nights in the cupboard under the stairs, and they reassured him when he was woken violently from a nightmare. 

 

But now, during the summers, the doodles were getting washed off more often. And hastily, too. It seemed like someone was washing the ink off for the artist. It seemed like the artist was drawing just out of sight to retaliate. Harry started finding flowers and birds on his thighs, creatures on the bottom of his feet. It was great for Harry, too, because now Uncle Vernon can’t get Harry in trouble for things he didn’t do. 

 

It’s the end of August, almost September. It’s almost school. Harry will finally be with his true family. Going back to his new home. No more Dudley, no more Vernon and Petunia. No more getting yelled at for no reason. No more cupboard under the stairs. Nothing to worry about. All of Harry’s troubles will melt away.

 

He’ll be back at Hogwarts, and Harry Potter will be okay.


End file.
